Graphing Michelangelo
by hummerhouse
Summary: Mikey always wants a lot of things. Don gives him something unexpected. Implied TCest, mild language. One shot.


Graphing Michelangelo

Michelangelo was bouncing around Donatello's lab. Literally bouncing.

Don had already saved a stack of circuit boards after Mikey had careened into the table they were on. Yanking Mikey away from a set of glass beakers at the last minute kept Don from losing a valuable experiment.

The genius brother was trying to concentrate on rewiring an old lamp he'd found, but Mikey was equally as determined to have Don's full and undivided attention.

"Come on, Donny," Mikey said in his best wheedling tone. "How long can it possibly take? I've got like five boxes of track now, it'll be awesome. I even cleaned a big space in the garage to set it up in so it won't be in anybody's way. Please!"

"I told you Mikey; I'll do it when I have time. Right now I need to fix this lamp for Master Splinter. Besides, how old are you? Eighteen? Why do you feel the need to keep playing with toy cars?" Don asked.

Mikey assumed his best pouty face. "Hmph! You guys all play with stuff. Leo spends hours playing with his swords and like, stacks of candles. Raph has play dates with Casey. You spend all your time in here playing with this stuff."

He swung an arm around to indicate Don's cluttered lab and in the process knocked a light bulb off the work bench. Don swiftly caught it and set it out of harm's way.

"I do not _play_ with these things, Mikey," Don told him. "The work I do in here is to keep us safe and make our lives a little easier."

"Uh huh." Mikey pointed to an object on a nearby shelf. "I suppose that miniature volcano replica that you made erupt with molten lava was so you could develop a plan on how we'd escape the next volcano that rises up in the middle of Wall street."

Don had the good graces to look slightly embarrassed. "That was an experiment on chemical reactions," he explained.

"Sure it was," Mike said sarcastically. "You can call my auto racetrack an experiment on acceleration. I'll even keep notes on the winners."

"You were going to do that anyway," Don said mildly. He set the lamp down and rolled over to his laptop.

Mikey poked at the broken wire Don had yanked out of the lamp and considered his next volley in his mission to persuade Don to build the racetrack. Glancing up, he watched Don type something into his computer and then saw a series of lines appear on the screen.

Curious, Mikey strolled towards the genius. "Donny, what's that?" Mikey asked, trying to get a better look at Don's computer screen.

Don quickly minimized the entry which only served to pique Mikey's interest further.

Throwing an arm over Don's shoulder, his hand crept towards the mouse. Don slapped it away.

"Mind your own beeswax, bro'," Don said.

"Come on Donny, give," Mikey wheedled. "It's gotta be good if you hide it so darn fast. I won't tell, honest. Is it porn?"

Don ran a palm over his face. "No, Mike. It's not porn. It's just something I've been working on."

"Well, what is it?

With a deep sigh, Don knew he'd better feed Mikey a bone or he'd never find a minute's peace.

"It's a graph, Mikey. That's all, just a chart I started a while back," Don explained.

"A chart of what?" Mikey asked, clearly not in the mood to be put off now that his curiosity was in overdrive.

"Mikey, haven't you got something to do?" Don pushed his chair back from the desk and forced Mikey to move with him or get his toes run over.

"Nah. I wanna help you. Maybe if we finish off some of your list you can work on my idea," Mikey said.

Don suddenly had visions of sparks, broken glass and fire.

"No!" he nearly shouted. Clearing his throat, he said, "No, that's okay Mikey. Look, I'll add your ideas to my list and if I can combine some things maybe I can work on your stuff."

Mikey's eyes narrowed as he watched Don return to the lamp. Don could feel his brother staring at him and studiously avoided looking in that direction. Maybe Mike would get bored and leave.

Instead, Mikey darted around him with the ninja speed he showed when truly motivated. Before Don could stop him, Mikey had accessed the hidden graph.

Eyes wide, Mikey stared at the screen as Don jumped out of his chair and tried to pull him away.

"Shell, Don! This is a chart of all the times we've had sex," Mikey looked up at him, expecting an explanation.

Don sighed deeply. He knew he shouldn't have updated the graph while Mike was in the room.

"Well yes, sort of," Don told him. Grabbing his chair, he spun it around and sat down.

Indicating a nearby stool, Don waved Mikey onto it before he started talking again.

Don fidgeted, plainly uneasy. "Look Mikey, I kind of started noticing this . . . _trend_ every time we slept together. It seemed as though the day after you would always bring me an entire list of things you wanted me to build or help you create and I started wondering if it was my imagination. So I began logging our lovemaking into a calendar and then added the number of project requests you made on a daily basis."

"Okay. Go on," Mikey said, being dangerously patient.

Don shifted in his chair, slightly uncomfortable under the blue gaze. "So there's an enormous spike on those days following us having sex. It isn't my imagination. After we spend the night together you always want more stuff from me," Don said.

The two brothers stared at each other for several long moments, saying nothing. Then Mikey started to laugh.

Don glared at him. "I'm glad you find that so funny."

"Yeah it is," Mikey said, working to control himself. "Dude, sure I tell you more of my ideas after we have sex. 'Cause that's when I feel most comfortable talking to you."

Startled, Don asked, "What?"

Mikey shrugged. "Well you know, you're like always so busy and I don't want to bother you with my ideas. Plus, you're so smart I always think you're gonna laugh at me so I don't say anything. When you're all tense and stuff I just don't feel good coming to ask you things. But after we have sex, you're like, all relaxed and you seem to like me better."

Mikey stopped and looked down at his feet, feeling embarrassed and more than a little vulnerable.

"So the sex thing wasn't just a way to . . .?" Don began.

Mikey looked up. "To what, manipulate you? Shell no! Dude, you're awesome in bed. Like, the best! I would totally do you every night if I could," Mikey said with enthusiasm.

"Okay, I get the point." Don patted the air with a palm to stop his brother. "I envisioned you sitting and making a list of things for me to do and then having sex with me to soften me up for the kill."

Mikey grinned. "Not to say I'm not capable of something that devious, it's just not true in this case. I always have tons of ideas of stuff I wanna do, Don. I just tell you more of them after we have sex 'cause you seem more tolerant then."

Don groaned. "All this time I spent wondering if I was being used. I should have just asked you. I could have saved myself a lot of worry."

Chuckling, Mikey said, "You just aren't wired that way, Donny. The straight approach is patented Michelangelo."

"Well, you weren't so straight forward either Mikey," Don told him with a wry smile.

Mikey nodded. "I guess we both need to learn to talk to each other better," Mikey admitted.

Don stood up and took Mikey's hands in his own, pulling his younger brother off the stool and into a hug. Mikey dug his face into Don's neck and held him tightly.

"I love you a lot bro'," Mikey murmured.

Don smiled gently. "I love you too Mikey."

"Mmm, Don?"

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"You got anything else on those charts?" Mikey asked, pulling back so he could look into Don's eyes.

Don's smile got bigger. "Maybe."

Mikey's eyes grew round. "Don't tease me dude. What else?"

His genius brother chuckled. "I have a log of all the times I've saved Raph's ass in a fight."

It was a long time before either of them stopped laughing. Then they went to the garage to build a racetrack.


End file.
